


Forgotten

by notcool



Category: Pegasus Kate O'Hearn
Genre: Agender, Gen, Jupiter has a dark side, Other, Sorry I just didn't want to deal with that, Vesta feels, Vesta has secrets, Xanadu, maybe later I'll come up with a reason she's not there, set after the last book but i didn't feel like adding Lorin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-02-07 04:20:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 11,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12833160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notcool/pseuds/notcool
Summary: Emily, Joel and Paelen meet Pymos, a mysterious creature with no memories before waking up in a cavern on the edge of Xanadu. The only thing Pymos knows is that they're not supposed to be here...





	1. Pymos

**Author's Note:**

> I was so disappointed when the beautiful series Pegasus by Kate O'Hearn was ended, and, naturally, I started looking for fanfictions... only to find almost nothing! So this is my contribution, and maybe (hopefully) it will inspire others to write for Pegasus too, since I really want something to read!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pymos wakes in a cave and makes their way to... New Olympus?

Pymos blinked at the soft white sunlight that trickled from the cave entrance far above.

Their body was stiff and their throat dry and their own breaths echoed in their ears.

Pymos opened their mouth, but even if they had been able to speak they didn’t know what they were trying to say. They were missing someone. Someone important to them. Why couldn’t they remember the name?

Their someone was male, they knew that.

Were they themselves male? Pymos wasn’t sure. They weren’t sure there was even an answer to that question.

Slowly, with far more effort than should have been necessary, Pymos pushed themselves to their elbows.

They licked their dry, cracked lips and surveyed their body for damage - besides being incredibly filthy, there was none.

They were wearing a tunic and leggings, but the fabric was worn and thin, ripped at places. The tunic itself had the entire right arm ripped off, and the place where the fabric was torn had flakes of dried blood on it.

Pymos shifted, albeit very slowly, to their knees, then to their feet, which they noticed were bare.

They reached up a slightly shaky hand to their hair; it was shoulder length, an dark brown matted with dirt and grease and what Pymos could only guess was blood. The locks were corse between their fingers, and Pymos wondered if there was any saving it or if they’d just have to cut it off.

With a sigh they turned their attention to the most pressing matter at hand - they appeared to be trapped in a cavern, with no memory of getting here. Or anything prior to waking up, actually.

The more Pymos thought, they realized they knew nothing more than their own name. And that they were missing someone, a male someone… they thought?

The cavern was silent. So perfectly, eerily silent. But… too silent. They didn’t like it here. They didn’t like silence.

Shaking themselves, Pymos turned to face the cavern wall and began to climb.

It was only nine minutes later that they dragged themselves up out of a jagged split in the earth and onto soft green grass in a forest clearing.

Looking around, there was such undergrowth all around that it was a wonder the split hadn’t been grown over already. Was the split new? It didn’t look that new - some weeds had already made their home on some of pockets in the cavern walls.

Pymos breathed in the sweet, vaguely familiar air, and felt their lungs expand, as if they had been starving.

Speaking of starving, Pymos felt weak.

"Ambrosia." A voice in the back of their mind whispered. "You need ambrosia."

Pymos had no idea where they were, but there was an itch in their feet, so they listened, letting their legs take control and march away from the split in the earth and into the trees.

They walked for just over half an hour when the trees fell away around, and they were standing in a garden.

Over the fancy trimmed shrubs and perfectly tamed flowers there was a palace. A great, beautiful, marble palace, the wide entrance staircase leading up the the doors from a beautiful courtyard that the gardens gathered around.

As Pymos stood those great doors opened, and three people came out; a girl and two boys.

Well, it wasn’t fair to call them that. A woman and two men - there, better.

The woman was truly stunning. Tall and slender, long silky black hair flowing in the breeze, violet tunic clinging to her perfectly tanned skin.

The one young man was tall and strong, short hair brushed back and his black tunic fitted with a silver sword belt.

The other was certainly shorter, built more like a jack russell terrier than the saint bernard of a man standing beside him.

It was an odd metaphor. Pymos wondered why that was the first thing their mind thought of. But they were unable to wonder long; they were hit with another pang of weakness, and it forced them to cross the garden and approach the trio.

The young adults were immersed in conversation, and didn’t notice Pymos until they were halfway across the courtyard.

“Hello?” The young woman frowned at the newcomer. “Are you alright?”

“N-not really.” Pymos forced words through their stiff mouth. “Do you know where any… ambrosia is?”

“There’s some just inside.” The woman said. “Are you injured? I can help you.”

“I do not think so.” Pymos said. “I just need ambrosia.”

Pymos started for the doors.

The taller man rushed forward. At first Pymos thought he was going to block their way, and paused, but the man instead opened the door and held it for them.

“T...thank you.” Pymos managed.

The trio followed Pymos inside.

It felt wrong. So wrong. Their feet had carried them here but Pymos didn’t think they were supposed to be here.

But a scent hit them, and all doubts crashed away.

Ambrosia.

Pymos took the food gratefully, casting the trio of people worried glances, but they only nodded encouragingly.

Cautiously Pymos took a bite of the hauntingly familiar food, and felt strength flood into their veins before they had even finished swallowing.

It only took three more bites before an internal meter seemed to chime within them, telling Pymos their energy was restored.

With a small nod, as if to acknowledge their own body’s message, Pymos set down the slice of ambrosia and blinked several times.

“Full?” The jack russell of a man asked, offering a small smile.

“I suppose.” Pymos returned the smile sheepishly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” The other man said. “But I’ve never seen you around before. And you look kind of… battered.”

“Yeah,” The woman said, her voice soft and silky as her hair looked. “Who are you?”

“Pymos.” Pymos said. “And forgive me, but that is all I know.”

“What do you mean?” The taller man asked. “Where are you from?”

“I… do not know.” Pymos said. “Like I said; my name is Pymos, and that is all I know.”

“You don’t know anything but your name?” The shorter man frowned. “How?”

Pymos shrugged. “I do not know. I woke in a cavern about an hour ago. Everything before that is gone.”

The trio exchanged looks.

“Should we get Jupiter?” The taller boys asked.

The question was directed at the woman, whose head tilted in thought.

“No.” She decided. “We should go to Vesta. She’ll know anything before Jupiter does.”

“Jupiter? Vesta?” Pymos’ eyes bounced around the trio. “I know those names. Who are they?”

“Vesta is the goddess of the hearth.” The woman said. “Come on, she can help you.”

“I… I don’t know.” Pymos bit their lip. “I don’t know you. I don’t even know myself!”

The woman’s face turned sympathetic. “Well, I may not be able to help you with the last part, but I’m Emily. This is my boyfriend Joel-” She pointed at the taller man “-and my best friend Paelen-” she pointed to the shorter man “I… I know you’re scared, but we’re here to help. Vesta is my teacher. She won’t hurt you, I promise.”

Pymos looked around, meeting each of the trio’s eyes, if only for a moment. “Okay.” They said. “Let’s go see Vesta.”


	2. Not a "Proper" Olympian

Emily watched Pymos out of the corner of her eye as she led the group through the streets of New Olympus to Vesta’s sanctuary.

Everyone was out at the game fields; Emily and her friends had been about the head there themselves before Pymos appeared, but helping the scared-looking Olympian was more important right now than watching competitions.

And Vesta should still be at her home - the goddess of the hearth rarely went to the games.

Emily couldn’t tell if Pymos was male or female. She wasn’t sure Pymos was either, honestly.

The battered newcomer was scared, that was obvious.

Their hands were at their sides, but the muscles were taunt, their eyes alert and shoulders tensed, as if they expected to have to strike at any moment.

They seemed to have gain no comfort from the ambrosia - only strength with which to carry out their fear of seemingly everything around them.

Maybe Emily and her friends had been welcoming to them, maybe they had fed them and not made any threatening moves - they didn’t even carry weapons! - but Pymos was a long, long way from trusting the Olympians.

The group arrived at Vesta’s temple after a short walk with no conversation.

Despite having been completely rebuilt on Xanadu, the temple was nearly identical to the one that had been on Olympus.

Emily watched Pymos’s expression as the weary eyes searched the building’s face over with some hazy form of recognition.

“Does this seem familiar?” Emily asked.

Slowly Pymos nodded. “It does… feel right.” They said. “Almost like…” They shook their head. “I don’t know.”

Joel lead the way up the steps and tugged open the grand wooden doors. “Vesta?” He called inside. “Are you home?”

“Come in!” A soothing female voice carried from the temple.

Joel pulled the door open further, and the small group filed in.

Vesta turned with a smile on her angelic face, and froze as her eyes settled on Pymos. “P-Pymos?” She choked.

Pymos blinked. “Do… do you know me?”

“Know you!” Vesta cried. “Pymos, I thought you dead!” The goddess of the hearth moved faster than Emily knew she could to embrace the battered Olympian in a tight hug.

“You are… Vesta, yes?” Pymos stood as still as a stone pillar in Vesta’s arms, biting their bottom lip as they searched for words. “How… how do you know me?”

“Pymos…?” Vesta pulled back slightly. “Do… do you really not know?” Tears rimmed the goddess’s eyes. “Pymos, we fought side by side when the nirads attacked! You saved my life countless times then and it was not the first. Pymos, tell me you remember me!”

“Forgive me.” Pymos said. “I remember nothing - not just you.”

“We found Pymos outside Jupiter’s Palace.” Paelen said helpfully. “They said they awoke in a cavern…”

“… little more than an hour ago.” Pymos finished. “Before that… nothing.”

Vesta pulled back a bit more, looking her friend up and down. “My Xan, you look… dead.”

Pymos looked down at themselves. “I suppose that is one way of saying it.” They said. “You said you thought me dead. What would have you say that?”

“At the last battle… at the end of Olympus…” Vesta shook her head. “You and your followers…”

“Followers?” Pymos tilted their head. “I have followers?”

“Oh, Pymos…” A single tear escaped Vesta’s eye and traced her cheek. “You all said you were going to hold off the gate… you didn’t make it through. None of you did.”

“Wait,” Joel said. “I never heard anything about this.”

“It is complicated.” Vesta sighed. “Pymos and their followers weren’t exactly what Jupiter considered… proper Olympians. Of course he wouldn’t want to recognize their deaths, however heroic.”

Emily, Joel and Paelen exchanged looks.

“Proper Olympians?” Pymos scowled. “Whatever did we do?”

Vesta exhaled pointedly. “Not for you to worry about, dear.” She placed a gentle hand on Pymos’s shoulder. “I will find out what happened to you. I swear it.”

“We will help you.” Emily announced.

Vesta smiled at the Flame. “You are too noble, Emily.” She said. “I appreciate it much more than I could ever say.”

“Joel and I are included in that ‘we’ right?” Paelen checked.

“If you want to be.” Emily said. “It’s up to you.”

“Is it?” Joel snorted. “You should know by now, Emily - wherever you go, we go.”

“Well, us plus Pegasus.” Paelen said.

“Yeah,” Emily nodded slowly. “He’ll probably insist on helping out.”

“What do you mean  _ probably _ ?” Joel said. “That guy’s almost more loyal to you than I am!”

“Pegasus?” Pymos ventured. “I know that name.”

“You didn’t have much interaction with him.” Vesta said. “In fact, none of the other Olympians ever had much interaction with you, save Jupiter…”

“Which you have already said is not the best person to ask for aid.” Pymos said. “Do you think this Pegasus will be open?”

“Pegasus will understand.” Emily assured.

“Why don’t you three go find him, Emily?” Vesta said. “I’ll get Pymos cleaned up.”

Again Pymos’s eyes drifted down to their own disfigured appearance. “I suppose a new tunic wouldn’t hurt.” They said. “If you have one you may spare.”

“Of course I do!” Vesta said, herding her friend towards the back of the temple.

When the pair was out of sight Emily turned to her friends. “Okay then.” She breathed.

“Yeah,” Joel said. “That was something.”

“It was.” Paelen agreed. “Are we going to get Pegasus then?”

“Yeah.” Emily said. “I just…”

“Just what?”

“I don’t like this.” Emily shook her head. “It’s just… wrong. Why would Jupiter outcast an Olympian? A whole group of Olympians?”

“We don’t know who we’re dealing with.” Joel picked up on Emily’s thoughts. “With or without their memory, Pymos could be dangerous.”

“They could just be like I was.” Paelen suggested. “A thief.”

“A thief with followers?” Emily asked. “Sorry Paelen, but I think what we’ve walked into is much bigger than that.”


	3. Back at Olympus...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Olympus isn't dead... yet

Dinlas was sobbing, and Caerus wasn’t far off from it. The two survivors were huddled under a ledge on the side of Mount Olympus, hiding from the cold and rain they knew would soon be the death of them.

“They’re dead.” Dinlas’s words were muffled through his tunic’s sleeves. “They’re all dead.”

Caerus didn’t have the heart to reply.

What had been a group of twenty-six had dwindled down to just the two of them in a matter of days. Without their leader, they’d stood no chance.

Pymos had protected them. Shielded them. Loved them like they’d never known and never would again. Pymos had made a family out of failures and outcasts. Pymos had believed in them, and without them, the group had crumbled into fear and heartache.

They hadn’t even been able to find Pymos’s body to give them a proper burial.

The group had tried - they really had - but they were all just children in the eyes of the vast universe, and one by one they succumbed to their battle wounds and were left lying lifeless in fields no one would ever again explore.

The Solar Stream was dead, and Dinlas and Caerus were left trapped in the remains of Olympus, dying slow deaths they had no way to escape - or so they thought.

Caerus had almost drifted out of consciousness when a bright flash in the distance had them jolting to their knees, now wide eyes fixed on the point as the reached out blindly to paw at Dinlas’s shoulder.

“Dinlas, look.”

“They’re dead…”

“Dinlas!”

The boy yelped when Caerus’s blind swatting caught his ear. He looked up, vision blurry with tears, but the spectacle was large enough he could make it out anyway. “Is that…?”

“A gate.” Caerus breathed. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on!” Caerus cried. “We don’t know how long it will last!”

“But… we don’t have anything to fly with! We could land anywhere”

“Better anywhere than here.” Caerus said. “Hurry!”


	4. Memories Slipping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pymos has a flashback

Pymos found themselves clad in a new long-sleeved tunic of soft, silky white, their worn belt replaced with braided leather.

Pymos was avoiding Vesta’s gaze as much as possible - maybe they were friends, but Pymos still had trouble believing someone would be so kind to them. And worse, they had absolutely no idea how to thank her.

It’s not like Pymos exactly had anything to hand out.

Vesta seemed to read their thoughts a little too well. “You don’t owe me, Pymos.” She said. “You never owe me. You are my friend.”

“I believe that,” Pymos said quietly as they tugged on the sandals Vesta had given them. “Something just feels wrong. Like I am… missing something.”

“You are missing something,” Vesta reminded. “Your entire memory. Somehow your mind has been hollowed out.”

“But not entirely.” Pymos mused. “I recognized your and Jupiter’s names when I heard them. I do not understand, Vesta. It feels like I’m not just missing some _ thing _ , but some _ one. _ ”

“One of your followers, perhaps?” Vesta said. “I never had much interaction with any of them, but you talked of them like they were family.”

“Perhaps.” Pymos agreed, nodding. “Yes… that must be it.”

“Vesta? Pymos? We’re back!” Joel’s voice floated through the temple.

“Are you ready?” Vesta asked.

Pymos shrugged. “I cannot be sure, but I hope so.”

Vesta nodded. “Good enough. Come, I will introduce you to Pegasus.”

Pymos followed the goddess through the temple to the main room.

Emily, Paelen and Joel were standing there, and with them was what must have been one of the most magnificent creatures in the worlds.

The body of a horse stood a good three meters tall at the shoulder, shimmering white coat reflecting the sunlight that filtered in the door, massive white feathered wings jutting from the shoulders…

“ _ Hello _ .” The beautiful creature greeted stiffly.

“H-hello.” Pymos said. “You are… magnificent.”

The creature blinked, ears twitching in surprise. “ _ I… _ ”

“Pymos, this is Pegasus.” Vesta said. “Pegasus, Pymos. How much have you explained, Emily?”

“As much as I understood myself.” Emily said.

“Which isn’t much.” Joel added.

Paelen drifted over to Pymos’s side to speak quietly in their ear. “Pegasus won’t say much about you, but although he does not have a good opinion, I do not believe you have any personal problems with him. He will help us, just give him a little time to get used to you.”

Pymos shot him what they hoped was a smile. “I will.” They said.

As Paelen drifted back, Pegasus slowly approached. “ _ I have not heard much of you, _ ” The large brown eyes searched Pymos suspiciously. “ _ But the times Jupiter has mentioned you have not been in pleasure. _ ”

“I do not know what I did to anger him.” Pymos said. “All I know is he is not eager to forgive me, and even that I have only just learnt from Vesta.” They swallowed, planning their words carefully. “I maybe have done some things, but I cannot defend myself. I do not know what I did or what my motives were. I just know that now my memory has fled me and I am here, alive, when Vesta says neither of which is possible.”

“Pymos was on Olympus when the Solar Stream was destroyed.” Vesta added. “They should have died when Olympus did, and not only are they alive, they somehow made it to Xanadu with no Solar Stream.”

Pegasus nodded thoughtfully, though he still eyed Pymos as if they might be about to attack him. “ _ That is impossible. _ ” He agreed. “ _ Something, as you say, is wrong. _ ”

“Yes.” Vesta said, putting a firm hand on Pymos’s shoulder.

The touch was distantly familiar. Pymos wondered how many times they had stood like this - Vesta speaking in that determined tone as she stood at Pymos’s side, defending her friend from so much as a dirty look.

The thought comforted Pymos, but also made them feel guilty. Vesta didn’t deserve to have to defend them all the time. Vesta was better than them, so much better.

Vesta was a goddess, an Olympian!  _ A proper Olympian _ .

With her soft but firm voice, her appearance so harmless but the knife in her sleeve ready to strike at any moment… wait, knife?

Pymos spun and grabbed Vesta’s wrist, slipping their fingers into the sleeve and pulling out the weapon before Vesta could even stutter in surprise.

“How…?” Pymos studied the blade, and grew more and more certain that they had held it before - not just held it, but fought with it…

_ Pymos watched in horror as their dearest friend dropped to her knees with an arrow in her gut. _

_ Their enemy was raising their sword for the final blow. _

_ “NO!” Pymos shrieked, lunging forward. _

_ It shouldn’t have worked. They were more than twenty meters away, with a maze of corpses and smouldering ruins between them and Pymos, but in the next breath metal clashed metal. _

_ Pymos stood over their friend, metal screeching as their and their enemy’s swords slid closer to the hilts… _

_ “Pymos…” Vesta’s ever colour-changing eyes pleaded. “Pymos, get out of here!” _

_ “No!” Pymos cried. “Not without you!” _

_ “Pymos!” Vesta choked. “For once, please, listen!” _

_ “Not happening.” Pymos summoned all their strength and gave their enemy a brutal shove. The enemy toppled back, arms waving. Pymos took advantage of their exposed chest and drove theri sword through the breastplate. _

_ The enemy howled and collapsed. _

_ Pymos dropped to their knees beside Vesta. _

_ “No!” Vesta insisted. “Leave me! More are coming!” _

_ “More are coming.” Pymos agreed, scooping Vesta into their arms. _

_ “Pymos!” Vesta said. “I refuse to be the death of you!” _

_ “And I refuse to be the death of you.” Pymos said. “Don’t fight me, Vesta. You will survive this whether you want to or not. Give me your knife.” _

_ “Why?” _

_ “My sword is in somebody’s chest.” Pymos said. “I need something to fight with.” _

_ “You cannot fight whilst carrying me!” Vesta cried. _

_ “Want to bet?” _

“Pymos?” Vesta was standing in front of them, hand hovering as if wanting to take the knife back. “Pymos, can you hear me?”

“Vesta.” Pymos breathed. “You were…” Their eyes drifted down to Vesta’s stomach area, which was completely free of both blood and arrows. “But… you were shot…”

“Excuse me?”

“An arrow.” Pymos said. “Right… there.” They reached out a hand to lightly poke the place on Vesta’s abdomen where the wound had been.

Vesta’s eyes widened. “You… you remember?”

Pymos tilted their head. “Not much.” Their eyes drifted back to the blade in their hands. “I took your knife and then…”

“Pymos, that was a long time ago.” Vesta said. “Not that that’s bad but… anything more recent?”

“Wait a second.” Emily interrupted. “Vesta, when were you shot with an arrow? I think I would remember that.”

“As I said,” Vesta said. “It was a long time ago. A long,  _ long _ time ago.”

“ _ I do not remember it either. _ ” Pegasus whinnied.

“It was before you.” Vesta lowered her head. “Before your father, even. Pymos, is there nothing else?”

Pymos frowned. “Who were they, Vesta?”

“Whom?”

“The ones who shot you, the ones we fought.” Pymos bit their lip. “They had skin like oil and armor like stone. No blade should have been able to cut through, but ours did somehow…”

“It does not matter.” Vesta said quickly. “They are all dead now.”

“Did we kill them?” Pymos asked.

“Not alone,” Vesta said. “But yes, we killed them.”

Silence.

“This is… good, right?” Paelen was the first brave enough to speak. “Pymos is remembering things. Perhaps they will remember more in time.”

“I am remembering.” Pymos said. “But apparently in the wrong order.”

“ _ Not much came before my father that you were present for. _ ” Pegasus said. “ _ Exactly how long have you known Pymos? _ ”

“Long enough to trust them.” Vesta said. “With my life.”

“Even just seeing that one battle,” Pymos said. “I can see why.”


	5. ...Secrets?

The gate was strong - stronger than any gate Caerus had ever seen.

It loomed at twice his own height, the whirlpool of black energy whipping at his hair and clothes and sucking the in the air around him.

“I do not like this!” Dinlas called, hanging back.

Caerus glanced back. “And you like this wasteland of corpses better? Come on! It could close any moment!”

“We could die!”

“We are  _going_  to die anyway!” Caerus called. “Come  _on_!”

Before Dinlas could argue further, Caerus took was step closer to the gate… and was swept in.

“Caerus!” Dinlas shrieked.

No reply.

Looking back, all there was to see from here to the horizon was bloodied battlefields.

Caerus was right in one thing - better anywhere than here.

Cringing at what he was about to do, Dinlas stepped up to the gate, and felt his feet leave the ground for what my be the last time.

\---

Pymos had returned Vesta her knife, and the goddess of the hearth was doing everything possible to dodge Pymos’s - and Pegasus’s - questions about the battle Pymos had described.

_They had skin like oil and armor like stone._

Even if they were dead, Emily was sure a war against creatures like that would have found its way into her lessons on the history of Olympus.

As Vesta, Pegasus and Pymos conversed, Emily took Joel and Paelen by the hand and tugged them down a corridor.

“Something’s wrong here.” She announced.

“Do you think?” Paelen mused sarcastically. “Well there is only a person whose lost their memory who wondered in about an hour ago and is also hated by Jupiter, whatever could be the matter?”

Emily folded her arms. “You know that’s not what I meant. Haven’t you noticed how Vesta’s avoiding the topic of Pymos remembering the battle?”

“Yeah,” Joel frowned. “It is odd.”

“If Pymos is as close a friend as Vesta says, shouldn’t she be glad that they’re remembering anything?” Emily shook her head. “Vesta’s hiding something. And it also seems a bit suspicious the first thing Pymos remembers is something so…”

“Secret.” Paelen finished, his eyes widening with understanding. “I see where you are going, Emily. You think Pymos’s memory loss was not an accident.”

“After all we know now?” Emily said. “It can’t be. Vesta has always been direct. For her to hide something from us… it must be bad.”

The trio’s eyes all landed on Vesta, who was frowning, shoulders hunched forward defensively as Pegasus questioned harshly and Pymos stood back, their gaze flitting between the two.

“Maybe you should talk to her, Emily.” Joel suggested. “Alone. You’re her student, the Flame. Maybe she’ll tell you what’s going on.”

“Maybe.” Emily said. “I don’t know that she’ll be ready to leave Pymos so soon, though. She thought they were dead, remember? She might need some time.”

“Time we do not have.” Paelen reminded. “We cannot afford to withhold this from Jupiter much longer.”

“I agree.” Joel said. “The sooner we figure out what is going on, the sooner we can help Pymos. And the sooner we help Pymos, the sooner this is all over and life goes back to normal.”

“Yeah, I know.” Emily sighed. “I just have a bad feeling about this.”

“About talking to Vesta?” Paelen tilted his head.

“Well… not just that.” Emily said. “About this whole thing. About Pymos, about their memories, about… I don’t even know. It’s like the very air I’m breathing is just  _wrong_  now.”

“Can you define wrong?” Joel asked.

“That’s the worst thing about it.” Emily said. “I don’t think I can.”


	6. Bits and Pieces

Dinlas opened his eyes to a world that was spinning. Or maybe that was just him spinning.

His head throbbed and he could barely lift it to survey his surroundings through his drastically blurred vision.

“...Caerus?” He called weakly.

If there was a reply, he was too disoriented to hear it.

Dinlas tasted blood. He prayed to all gods that he had only bitten his lip and wasn’t bleeding from his lungs or stomach. At the moment he couldn’t tell.

He tried to push himself up and found his arms scraped and bleeding, stinging blindingly as he lifted them from the gravel.

“Caerus?” He called again.

Blood dripped from his lips - that could not be good.

“Dinlas?” A distant voice answered.

A spark of hope shot through the pain. “Caerus!”

Gravel scraped and tumbled as someone seemed to be climbing towards him. Was Dinlas really on an incline? It didn’t feel like an incline.

Cool hands met Dinlas’s bruised skin, gently rolling him onto his back.

Dinlas smiled weakly to find his head resting in his friend’s lap, worried green eyes searching him as their noses were only inches apart. “We made it.” He whispered.

“Yes.” Caerus found the strength to return the smile. “We made it.”

Dinlas cringed as Caerus’s fingers probed his hair, coming into contact with a seeping wound.

Caerus bit his lip.

“How deep?” Dinlas asked.

Caerus’s eyes were fixed on the blood coating his fingers. “How do you feel, Dinlas?”

“Weak.” Dinlas said. “But alive… Where are we?”

“I do not know.” Caerus admitted. “But it is certainly not Olympus, and it is not Xanadu. The air is heavy and tastes of poison. But it is not enough to harm us… I think.”

“You think?” Dinlas raised an eyebrow. “This does not comfort me, you realize.”

“I realize.” Caerus scowled. “Your head is still bleeding. I do not know much about wounds, but I know this is bad.”

“It is,” Dinlas sighed. “My tunic - can you cut off the sleeve with your knife?”

“Yes,” Caerus said. “Why… ah.” His gaze grew distant. “Dinlas, it did nothing to save Zelus, or Nemesis.”

“Do I look like Zelus or Nemesis to you?” Dinlas snorted. “Come on - what is that human saying? Third time’s the charm!”

“I cannot lose you, Dinlas.” Tears rimmed Caerus’s eyes.

“You will not.” Dinlas said. “You have dragged me this far. It would be a shame for me to skip out now.”

Brushing aside his tears, Caerus tugged his dull knife from its sheath and carefully worked the blade along the seam of Dinlas’s tunic sleeve.

As Caerus tied the cloth around his friend’s wound he noticed how Dinlas’s skin was visibly paler than it should have been. “You are weak, Dinlas.” He said quietly.

“I know.” Dinlas blinked back his own tears. “But I have a good feeling. I do not know why, but I do. Something about the gate felt… different.”

“I do not remember the gate feeling like anything.” Caerus said. “But if you say so.”

“I say so.” Dinlas caught his friend’s hands when they pulled back. “Caerus… thank you.”

“For what?” Caerus tasted tears on his lips though he did not remember them falling. “For not leaving you to die on Olympus?”

“Something like that.”

\----

“My followers,” Pymos asked, almost, but not quite, changing the subject. “You said I spoke of them like family. Who are they?”

“They could be dead, Pymos.” Vesta said. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“There is hope.” Pymos said. “After all, you thought me dead.”

“I did…” Vesta sighed. “You didn’t mention many by name. Some perhaps were thought to be dead or locked away in prison, so it was no surprise.”

“What names did I say?” Pymos asked. “Dead or not, I would wish to remember whatever family I had.”

“Momus was mentioned often.” Vesta said. “He was a trickster, that was for sure. I only knew him as a child when he lived on Olympus, but from the moment he could talk he was jesting and laughing and making fools of the elders at every turn.”

Pymos tilted their head. “Were all my followers so… rambunctious?”

“As I said, you only dared name a few.” Vesta said. “There was Caerus. He had a friend that you never named, but you always referred to them as if they were your little brothers.”

“Brothers.” Pymos breathed. “Do I have any brothers? Sisters? Parents?”

“Not that I knew.” Vesta frowned. “Your past was always a touchy subject. And I respected that. We even made a pact…”

“A pact?”

“Vesta!” Emily trotted up, a smile plastered on her face that Pymos saw right through - something was wrong. “Can I have a moment with you?”

“Of course.” Vesta said. “What about?”

“...Alone?” Emily tried.

“Ah,” Vesta’s eyes narrowed. “I…” She looked to Pymos.

Maybe Emily had decided Pymos was a threat. And for all Pymos knew, they were. Whatever was happening, Pymos knew there was no option but to let it play out - they were lucky so far that their past hadn’t already crushed them in a world where friend and enemy seemed so alike…

If it was going to happen now, they couldn’t exactly stop it.

“It is fine.” Pymos assured the goddess. “I am going nowhere.”

Vesta hovered a moment, then reluctantly followed Emily off down a side corridor.

Pymos was left standing awkwardly in the middle of the temple’s main room, Pegasus pacing the far wall and the young men Joel and Paelen sitting on the steps leading out.

Their heads were down, but Pymos could feel their eyes on them. It was a disturbing feeling.

Finally Paelen had the decency (or was it more bravery at this point?) to rise to his feet and approach them.

“Hello.” He said. “I know Emily introduced us, but I never much got to talk to you. I am Paelen.”

“I have never heard your name before.” Pymos admitted. “Nor do I recognize Emily or Joel. I do not suppose you all have ever heard of me?”

“No,” Paelen said. “Emily and Joel are new, and I am young and kept to myself until these past few years.”

“That must be it.” Pymos said.

“Not that you remember,” Paelen said. “But Vesta mentioned that you and her fought side by side against the Nirads. That was but a few years back, when Emily first came to Olympus.”

“Olympus.” Pymos echoed. “Is that where we are?”

“Well, no.” Paelen said. “We are on Xanadu, in the city of New Olympus.”

“What happened to Old Olympus?” Pymos asked.

“I do not dare imagine.” Paelen said. “But no one can get there anymore, if there is anything left of it. There was a war. A very big war. It was then that the Solar Stream was destroyed… Vesta says you were still on Olympus when the gates shut, yes?”

“She said something like that.” Pymos said. “There were lots of words I did not understand, but it makes a bit more sense now.”

“Honestly none of this makes sense.” Paelen said. He shifted, averting his eyes to his feet. “Pymos, do you think you losing your memory was an accident?”

Pymos hadn’t had time to think about it, but now that they did, the answer was obvious. “No.”

Paelen blinked. “What… makes you say that?”

“These gates.” Pymos said. “They are gone you say. And yet I was last heard of fighting a lost cause to guard one. The gate closes, and somehow I am here with no memory? Of all worlds, this one? Where my friends and allies alike just happen to combine?”

“You think fast for one whom has had their mind tampered with.”

“You speak slowly for one whom has not had their mind tampered with.” Pymos said. “No offense.” They added, as an afterthought.

Paelen managed a small chuckle. “I guess I am just very confused right now. I am used to finding adventure, not to it finding me.”

“Perhaps it was time for the tables to turn.”

“It was.” Palen nodded slowly. “And here we are. On turning tables - and we have no idea what to do with it.”

“Well, since I am not used to anything at the moment.” Pymos said. “May I suggest with what seems the first option to me?”

“And what would that be?” Paelen asked.

“Simple but time consuming, if my understanding of my past on Olympus is anywhere near correct.” Pymos said. “We need to make a list of anyone who would have a reason to want to harm me and my followers.”

“Ooh, a suspect list!” Joel appeared at Paelen’s shoulder. “Just like on  _ Criminal Minds _ !”

“I do not like that show very much.” Paelen frowned. “But I suppose that is accurate enough. And I fear that for now, Jupiter is at the top of so-called ‘suspect’ list.”


	7. This is not Justice

_ “Peitha, I hereby sentence you to death for the aiding in the massacre of the East Wood dryads.” _

_ “Death?!” The young goddess shrieked, leaping from her knees to strain against the chains that bound her. “My lord! I was but a small part! I never drew a blade! I never killed anyone!” _

_ “Take her away,” Jupiter rose from his throne. “I do not wish to hear these excuses.” _

_ “No!” Peitha screamed as two guards came forward. “No, this is not justice! Punish me, my lord, but not like this!” _

_ “Away!” Jupiter waved his hand threateningly. _

_ As she was dragged away Peitha wanted to scream. To cry. To do anything but be a dead weight of despair as she was tugged to the dungeons by masked men. “No…” She whimpered. _

_ The throne room was left behind and empty stone walls closed in around, shadows overtaking the world around as she was dragged deeper and deeper into the palace’s underground. _

_ Then, suddenly, she was blinded by sunlight. _

_ Peitha found her feet beneath her, scrambling away from the light if simply from instinct. The guard’s hands no longer clenched her arms. In fact, they weren’t holding her at all. _

_ “Calm now, Peitha.” Gentle but firm arms caught her when she would have fallen over her own feet. “You are safe now.” _

_ Peitha blinked slowly, peering through the blinding light to see the guards standing there, by an open door - a door to the outside. _

_ Outside. Peitha could escape now… couldn’t she? _

_ “Calm,” The arms lifted her, propping her on her feet and then releasing her. A firm hand patted her shoulder. “Death will not come for you today.” _

_ “Wh...what?” Peitha turned to meet dark eyes rimmed with shimmering amber. “Who…?” _

_ “I am Pymos.” The beautiful-eyed stranger said. “God of Dispute. And you, Peitha, Goddess of Persuasion, are correct in one thing.” _

_ “Wh-what is that?” Peitha stuttered. _

_ “To kill you would not be justice.” Pymos said. “You did wrong, yes, but you never drew blood. So I am here to offer you fair punishment.” _

_ “But… Jupiter will-!” _

_ “I do not abide by Jupiter’s law.” Pymos held a finger to the goddess’s lips to shush her. “I believe you can see why. So tell me; are you ready to break the law?” _

_ There was a long silence. _

_ “Yes.” _

Pymos shot awake, panting, hair tangled in their face and sticking to their skin with sweat.

“Are you well?” Vesta asked.

Pymos blinked at their friend. “Yes, I suppose I just fell asleep… when did you get back?”

“Just a few moments ago, actually.” Vesta’s eyes wandered.

“What did Emily want?” Pymos asked.

“It was… complicated.” Vesta said. “But she did have a point, however much I wish she did not.”

“A point about what?”

“Pymos…” Vesta bit her lip, and when their gazes locked Pymos could tell the contact was forced. “I need to tell you about the war.”

\---

The small group was sitting in the main room of the temple before Vesta even began to dream of speaking.

Pegasus was lying on the ground, Emily and Joel nestled against him, Joel with his arm arm around his girlfriend.

Pymos sat a little ways from them, and found Paelen beside them. He sat closer than expected, and though he may have looked a little sheepish, Pymos found the proximity welcome, especially when Vesta chose to sit opposite them rather than at their side.

“We’re listening, Vesta.” Emily prompted gently.

Vesta nodded absently. “Yes, I know…” She drew in a deep breath. “Pymos, you must understand, the war was nothing but blood and pain. I do not want to-”

“I will hear it.” Pymos said. “You cannot frighten me, Vesta. I may not know who I am, but scared of my memories I am not.”

“Yet…” Vesta breathed.


	8. Luck

Caerus kept a tight arm around his friend as he led him down the steep slope of the (what appeared to be a) mountain.

“Is there even a point to this?” Dinlas asked weakly. “It is not like we’re going to get anywhere like this.”

“We need to get away from where the gate dumped us.” Caerus explained. “If it opens again we could get sucked back in. There are worse places than this we could have landed.”

“We do not even know where ‘this’ is.” Dinlas sighed.

“I know.” Caerus said. “But it doesn’t appear to be imploding on itself, and there are not dead bodies littering the place, so I like it so far.”

“Always the optimist.” Dinlas muttered.

“I am the god of luck, I will have you remember.” Caerus said. “And if the gate remembered that also, we can hardly be in too bad a place.”

“You got stuck on Olympus, did not you?” Dinlas raised an eyebrow.

“Not the best of my moments, I admit.” Caerus said. “But, just on the verge of death, a gate opens in a place that a gate should be impossible! Come long now, Dinlas, even you have to admit that it is no mere happening.”

“You should be careful, though.” Dinlas warned. “God or nay, your luck will run out sometime.”


	9. Peitha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We return to the mysterious Peitha, Goddess of Persuasion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh gods I have been sooo bad at updating lately... please forgive me! I hope you like this chapter!

_"Fight Peitha! Fight like you want to kill!"_

_Peitha faced off in a training duel against the company's best warrior, whom also happened to be the most beautiful boy she had ever laid eyes on._

_She barely defended herself, and found their swords locked, his nose mere centimeters from her own._

_"Come long, Peitha." He taunted playfully. "Scared you will break me?"_

_"Something along those lines." Peitha gave her weapon a shove, and he stumbled back._

_"You are stronger than this, Peitha!" Pymos called from the sidelines. "Act like it!"_

_"Lost in my eyes again?" Her opponent teased._

_"Lost in your musings?" Peitha jumped forward, clashing with a barely raised defense, smirking at Pymos's laugh in the background._

_Again their faces were a breath apart, this time the male straining to keep_ her _blade at bay._

_"You hold surprises yet." He panted lightly. "But... so do I."_

_He swept out his leg, twisting as they both fell to land on top, Peitha's sword-arm trapped under his knee and his own blade to her neck._

_"Do you yield?" He asked._

_Peitha rolled her eyes. "Is there another option?"_

_With a crooked smile her opponent rose and then offered her his hand. With a shake of her head Peitha accepted his aid and sheathed her sword, straightening her tunic as Pymos approached._

_"Better," Pymos praised, their eyes shining with something akin to amusement. "Much better - both of you."_

_"I still won." The male boasted smugly._

_"This time, Caerus." Peitha shoulder-bumped him in a friendly challenge. "Next time, though..."_

_"You keep dreaming, love."_


	10. The Edge of Olympus

"Caerus?" Dinlas's heart skipped a beat when he opened his eyes to a vacant landscape. "Caerus?"

"I am here," the young god's face appeared over him. "How do you feel?"

"Awful."

"You did almost bleed out yesterday..." Caerus averted his eyes at the memory.

"Yesterday?" Dinlas's sluggish mind was not keen to attempt the simple math needed to decipher this. "How... how long have I been asleep?"

"Nearly a full day." Caerus said quietly. "If you can call it sleeping. I found a stream not far off. If you are feeling well enough, I would try and move us to it."

Dinlas nodded slowly, wincing as the wound on the back of his head raked in the gravel. "I... I can make it."

"You are not just saying things?" Caerus's eyes swam with fear that had yet to flee since Olympus.

"I am not doing to die, Caerus." Dinlas assured, though even he held a question in is voice.

Caerus opened his mouth to speak, but choked on the words. He nodded instead and cast a glance down the incline, towards the stand of trees at its bottom.

Dinlas knew that look - his friend was scared. Scared that everything he had ever known was collapsing - had already collapsed - and that he was going to lose Dinlas, the one familiar thing that yet remained.

And Dinlas was scared too. Scared that he might actually die. Scared that he would leave Caerus alone and broken in and unknown world with nothing to hold the god of luck together but the ever-fading hope of making it to Xanadu.

He could have spent the next several hours contemplating the terrible things that might happen, but Caerus shook him from it with a light, ever-so-slightly trembling hand on his shoulder.

"I cannot lift you, Dinlas." He said quietly. "You have to stand, if just a little."

Dinlas sighed knowingly and gripped his friend's arm. "Help me up."

\-------

"It was thousands of years ago." Vesta's eyes remained fixed in her lap. "Not long after the Titans were defeated."

Emily kept her eyes on Pymos as Vesta spoke, watching as the tattered Olympian soaked up every detail in their transfixed gaze, leaning forward in anticipation of every new word.

"We were weak," Vesta continued. "Only just starting to rebuild the Titan's kingdom into the famous Olympus. We made the mistake of sends out scouts out to the far edges of the land... We were searching for resources. But instead we awoke a deathly power."

"I do not know this tale." Emily couldn't help but murmur. "How can I not know this tale."

"Everything was over in less than a week." Vesta spared Emily a glance. "We destroyed what we could, but there were still remnants we knew yet remained... Lurking on the dark edges of Olympus. You and I, Pymos - we went to the place this edge began with a few others, and..."

Vesta closed her eyes, sucking in a long breath.

"What?" Joel's already growing frown deepened. When the goddess still didn't speak, he prodded further. "What did you do, Vesta?"

"We..." Vesta choked slightly on the words. "We cut it off. We drove a wave of energy through the ground and seared off the very edge of Olympus. We... We watched it fall.. We watched as the abyss absorbed it..."

Everyone was quiet a long time.

Finally, Pegasus bickered questioningly.  _"Was Jupiter there?"_

Slowly, Vesta shook her head. "We kept it from him. He was impulsive. Flawed in his sense of his own power. He would have marched into the edge himself under the insistence that he would kill what remained. We could not risk him awakening them again."

"That is why there are no books." Paelen realised. "No songs, no plays - you had to hide it. Even from the rest of Olympus."

"Yes." Vesta's voice was something somehow quieter than a whisper. Something more fragile than any glass sculpture or brittle bone. It sounded as if it might break at the slightest tremor.

Emily and Joel exchanged a glance.

"A secret that could alter Jupiter's trust in all of us." Vesta murmured.

"And it happens to be the first thing I remember." Pymos narrowed their eyes.

Emily knew the Olympians had been through a lot - more than a lot, actually - and yet they always pulled back together, however slowly, however uncertainty. This wasn't the whole story, that much was certain. If it were, Vesta would not be so afraid, especially after all this time.

But the goddess of the hearth looked on the verge of tears; now was not a good time to press for the darker parts of this secret. But, when was a good time? They couldn't hide this whole thing from Jupiter forever...

 _Vesta has been hiding this whole thing for centuries, all on her own..._ Emily thought, _Or was she all alone...?_

"Vesta," Emily said, "You said that you and Pymos were both part of this secret, but you also mentioned there were others - are they here now? On Xanadu?"

Vesta swallowed thickly, her eyes more active now as her thoughts went into momentary overdrive. "Some of them are yet alive, and on Xanadu, yes."

Silence.

"Who are they?" Paelen asked quietly.

"Fontus and Janus are on Xanadu." Vesta said. "Penates and two others are missing. The rest are dead."

"Dead?" Joel said. "I thought the gods were immortal?"

"Not all of us." Vesta sighed. "Even I am unsure of how it is decided. Perhaps it is the ones this universe deems... less important. I avoid asking at all costs. I am not sure whom I would even ask."

 _"How many went with you to the edge?"_ Pegasus asked.

"Twelve." Vesta nearly whispered. "Sickeningly poetic, that. Twelve Olympians; twelve holders of the secret that would rip them apart."

"Is it truly that terrible?" Paelen ventured.

"Believe me, young Paelen." Vesta said. "I have only told you the short version of these events - and yes, it is truly  _that_  terrible."


	11. Airplanes

“What. Was. That.”

Caerus squinted as the deafening streak disappeared over the horizon before his eyes. “I believe I know where we are.”

“A place where beasts scream their way through the sky.” Dinlas said. “Oh yes, I remember being here before - no!”

“We are on Earth, Dinlas.” Caerus let his own words sink in. “We… are on Earth!”

“Earth?” Dinlas tilted his head, his face twisted in what was either pain or a gruesome scowl. “I do not recall such creatures being on Earth, my friend.”

“You have not been to Earth since you were a boy.” Caerus reminded.    
And it is no beast anyhow - it is a machine.”

“A machine!?” Dinlas’s eyes widened, and he started to sit up before thinking better of it. Or perhaps he simply failed at the task.

“Pymos called it… an… air… air plant? Air… plod?” Caerus tilted his head. “No. Something else. It started with ‘air’ though, I am sure of it.”

“When did Pymos take you to Earth?” Dinlas puffed.

Caerus narrowed his eyes at the memory. “Back when the Nirads attacked. Pymos took me with them to look for Pegasus when he left - by the time we caught up with him, though, he had already found both the Flame and Diana, so we returned home.”

Dinlas righted his head to align his spine properly. “Everything changed then.” He sighed. “When the Flame arrived.”

“Now is not time to be sentimental of the olden eras.” Caerus scolded, but it was weak. Even he couldn’t help but feel a slight ache in his chest, remembering how easier things were before the Nirad’s and the Flame’s entering the picture.

“I suppose you are right.” Dinlas murmured. “If only my heart would agree.”

“Mine as well.” Caerus said quietly.

They sat in silence a moment.

“Earth is full of people.” Caerus changed the subject for both their benefits. “More so than you remember - there are more cities than vacant fields now. It is strange that we should land in an area completely empty.”

“Maybe humans are simply too lazy to build on mountains anymore?” Dinlas accepted the redirection gratefully.

“Perhaps.” Caerus said. “But I yet feel that there is some importance to where we have landed. The air here simply feels… I cannot think of a word. Happy? No. It is not an emotion. It is almost… crowded.” He decided.

“Crowded.” Dinlas bit his lip. “I do not feel anything, but then again we are sensitive to different auras… perhaps you are feeling the gate?”

“No,” Caerus shook his head. “I did not feel this when we first landed. It was when we retreated from the gate’s site that the air took on this… feeling.”

“Maybe it is some Earth invention you feel?” Dinlas proposed.

“Maybe.” Caerus frowned. “I did not feel it when Pymos and I came to Earth before, but I was quite on edge, and not exactly searching for auras.”

“Let us just blame it on some mortal creation and get on with it.” Dinlas said.

“I suppose we could.” Caerus said. “But do not let us forget this entirely - it may mean something after all.”

“It most likely does mean something.” Dinlas admitted. “But I for one should rather not contemplate just what that something is.”


	12. God of... What?

Vesta was fighting against a flood of memories that threatened to overwhelm her in their blooming dread. This should never have been brought up again. It should have stayed in the abyss where they buried it all those years ago - but here it was.

And here Pymos was… oh, Pymos! Vesta had been forced to mourn for her closest friend in silence for fear of this secret and a thousand others being dragged into the open, and no they were back, alive - healthy!

But could Vesta rejoice in this miracle? No, of course not. Of course something had to be dreadfully wrong, so terribly, horribly wrong.

Had Janus foreseen this? Was he even powerful enough? Vesta hadn’t spoke to the god in years - it was possible he had finally grown tired of the sinking dismay of other times and had turned his gaze off the future, away from the past.

Pymos was here before her eyes and they did not know her, not truly. They did not know the nights the pair of them had laid with their backs on soft Olympian grass, laughter ringing through the otherwise empty fields as they taunted the stars…

“Vesta?” Paelen’s soft voice prodded at the goddess’s trail of thought. “Are you listening?”

Vesta shook herself and found five sets of eyes boring into her.

Two were judgmental. Two were concerned. One was questioning. Vesta’s own eyes gravitated to the latter. “Pymos.” She sighed.

The god blinked at her innocently. “Vesta?” They replied.

But Vesta did not speak. Nor did anyone else.

A rather long and uncomfortable silence later, Pegasus took it upon himself to advance the conversation.

_ “Should we or not, Vesta?” _

Vesta blinked, then, and struggled to tug her gaze from Pymos’s. “Should we… what?”

“Joel had asked,” Emily said, cutting off her boyfriend as he opened his mouth. “If we should include any other gods in our knowledge.”

Vesta’s eyes widened. “You know we cannot-”

“Not Jupiter!” Paelen held up his hands. “...Obviously. But whatever is happening here is - more than slowly - growing larger than this little group can take care of.”

“Perhaps Diana or Chiron?” Emily continued, this time cutting off not only Joel but Pegasus. “People we trust - people who trust us.”

Vesta chewed her lip, eyes darting around yet never meeting a face. “There is a reason there were no more than twelve beside us at the edge when it fell.”

“What criteria did you use to choose these twelve?” Paelen wondered. “Could you not apply it again? There are yet more gods now than there were in the beginning.”

Vesta found her eyes fixed on Pymos’s, yet the god’s eyes did not join hers - they stared off into emptiness with an inquisitive tilt of the head.

“Pymos?” Vesta said, as if the god might understand enough of the conversation as to have an opinion in the matter.

“Chiron.” Pymos decided, as if it were a very profound thing, “Is a horse.”

Everyone exchanged looks.

_ “By those standards,” _ Pegasus said.  _ “I may as well be a donkey.” _

Pymos looked to him with a frown. “You are not a donkey.”

“Chiron is… partially a horse.” Emily waved a chiding hand at Pegasus. “Do you remember him?”

Pymos was quiet a moment. “He is very tall.” They stated.

“He is very tall.” Vesta perked, eyes alight with the possibility of her friend’s memories returning, however fragmented.

“And he is, in fact, a  _ he _ .” Joel added.

“Anything else?” Emily placed a gentle hand on Pymos’s arm.

Pymos tilted their head further. “Stubborn.” They said. “He is… stubborn.”

Paelen snorted. “That he is.”

“That is all, though.” Pymos finally looked to Vesta. “Why is it I remember him? Did I know him well?”

Vesta’s eyes were glossy with tears whose origin emotion even she was unsure of. “You and he got in some scuffles. He had rather given up on challenging you well before Emily came to Olympus - there was simply no point anymore.”

Pymos nodded slowly, their head rotating to Emily. “You… are not from Olympus?”

“I am not,” Emily said kindly. “My boyfriend Joel and I are from Earth.”

“Earth.” Pymos breathed. “I know Earth. It’s…” They licked their lips lightly, almost as if tasting the air. “Busy. Very busy.”

Joel raised an eyebrow. “An interesting choice of words.” He said.

“Yes.” Paelen said. “If I myself had to choose a word to describe it, I should have chosen loud. Though I suppose busy is not too far off.”

Pymos dropped their eyes to where Emily’s hand touched their arm. “Human.” They said simply.

“Well…” Emily said. “Once, a long time ago, yes. Not anymore though.”

Pymos shook their head. “I see human.” They placed a light finger on Emily’s hand, pointing into her skin. “It is… calling to me. It is… crying.”

Everyone looked to Vesta.

“Is this normal for them?” Emily asked.

“...Maybe?” Vesta said.

“That is not a very convincing answer.” Paelen said.

“Pymos rarely used their power that I saw.” Vesta said. “Or perhaps they were simply very good at concealing it.”

Pymos stirred from their transfixation with Emily’s hand. “I have power?”

_ “All gods have power.”  _ Pegasus informed.  _ “It does, however, present differently for everyone.” _

“Pymos,” Emily said, “What exactly are you god of again?”

Pymos just blinked, having no more answer to the question to the rest of them.

“The Forgotten.” Vesta answered for her friend. “Pymos is God of the Forgotten.”


	13. Words with the... dead?

“So… you can see things that are… forgotten?” Paelen tilted his head. “How exactly does this work? I am confused.”

“I… I am confused as well.” Pymos admitted.

At that everyone looked to Vesta.

The goddess of the hearth held up her hands. “Do not look at me! Pymos was always very secretive about how their abilities worked, and I do not blame them!”

“I do not suppose my strengths and weakness being common knowledge would have been a good thing,” Pymos reasoned. “Considering how many enemies I seem to have had.”

“Enemies you most likely  _ still _ have.” Emily said distastefully. “Well, at least your powers are still here. One more thing you still have. Maybe they can be of use in recovering what you have… forgotten.”

“But… I do not know how they work!” Pymos said. “I do not understand, Vesta - if I am the god of the forgotten, then how come I have forgotten everything?”

“I do not know.” Vesta said sadly.

“Well,” Joel finally found an open place to speak, and swiftly took is before it was filled. “As ironic as this is, I’m not seeing how it helps us. Don’t you know anything about how their abilities work, Vesta?”

Vesta frowned. “Pymos never said much about their powers - and used them even less that I saw. I always took it as if there were some kinds of… auras, almost, by which Pymos decided to do things that never made much sense at the time.”

_ “At the time.” _ Pegasus noted.  _ “Did these choices they made prove useful in the future?” _

“I would not know.” Vesta said. “The… choices, however strange, never seemed to have any repercussions, good  _ or _ bad. Many I time I did wonder if there was ever a point at all.”

“What kind of choices are we talking here?” Emily asked.

“Small things, mostly.” Vesta explained. “Inviting a child to sit with them. Taking the long way around a building. Taking a little too much interest in a foreign visitor…”

“Doesn’t seem too abnormal.” Joel said.

“It was for Pymos.” Vesta said. “For the longest time Jupiter had known what Pymos was, but he had no crime to charge them with. It was dangerous for Pymos to make the slightest move around him for fear he would use it as an excuse to imprison them.”

Everyone was quiet a moment.

“You still have not told me just  _ why _ Jupiter hates me so.” Pymos said quietly.

“It is a long story…” Vesta warned, or perhaps evaded.

“Sum it up for us?” Emily suggested, large eyes barely blinking as they followed Vesta’s every twitch.

“In short,” Vesta breathed, her gaze settling uncertainty in her lap, “Back then Jupiter was very… particular about the laws. He still is, but it was worse then. You know he had Paelen imprisoned for petty theft multiple times…”

“Believe me,” Paelen snorted. “I know.”

Vesta nodded slowly. “Prisoners would sometimes… disappear from the dungeons.”

“They escaped?” Paelen tilted his head. “No offense to Jupiter, but it is not so hard a task to accomplish.”

“Punishments were harsher then.” Vesta said. “Many a vanished prisoner had been set for execution.”

“ _ Execution _ ?!” Emily cried.

Only Pegasus and Pymos did not seem surprised.

_ “It was not unheard of.”  _ Pegasus disclosed.  _ “I was young and never attended such hearings, but I often heard of executions having been scheduled. They rarely seemed to stay scheduled.” _

“What did I have to do with this?” Pymos wondered, brow furrowed deeply.

“You were getting them out.” Vesta said. “You and your… followers. I even helped you once - it was a terrifying night. I was so afraid we would be caught…”

“So…” Joel rubbed his chin. “Like the underground railroad?”

Paelen looked confused. “How does this relate to a subway?”

“Not  _ that _ kind of underground railroad.” Joel sighed.

Emily dismissed the both of them with a wave of her hand. “Where was Pymos taking them?”

“I do not know.” Vesta bit her lip. “Pymos never told me - the less I knew about it the better… or that was our logic then.”

“Well that logic obviously has its drawbacks.” Paelen said.

“I just know they were kept alive and safe.” Vesta said. “And that they reappeared to fight when the Nirads attacked…”

“I never noticed anyone strange.” Paelen said.

“Nor did I.” Emily seconded.

“They fled as soon as the battle was won.” Vesta said. “The moment Jupiter’s sword left a worse enemy’s throat it would surely turn on them.”

“Did we not reside on Olympus, perhaps?” Pymos wondered. “Could we have taken the Solar Stream to some other realm, made a home there?”

_ “Well,” _ Pegasus said.  _ “They remember the Solar Stream.” _

“They do.” Vesta realized. “Pymos, what else can you tell me about Olympus?”

Pymos tucked a strand of tangled hair behind their ear. “It is… large. And white. And smells sweet - not unlike here.” They thought a moment longer. “The trees there, though… the trees there are very much unlike here.”

“Trees?” Joel raised an eyebrow.

“The trees are far older here.” Paelen mentioned. “Perhaps they somehow respond to Pymos’s… whatever their abilities are?”

“In any case,” Vesta shook her head rather fiercely. “Jupiter suspected Pymos had a hand in the escaped prisoners, but with no evidence could not get the court to back him.”

“The court.” Emily drawled. “This… consists of you and your fellow Olympians? I mean, the original 12?”

“The Big Three and siblings.” Joel said. “Sounds about right.”

“Jupiter was… scared.” Pymos said.

Everyone looked to them.

“Scared,” Pymos continued, blushing slightly at the attention, “That he would lose… something.”

“...Something?” Paelen queried.

“Something… dark.” Pymos shook their head. “He does not like me. He is… angry. He is questioning. He is…” They shook their head again, faster this time, almost like a wet dog. “He is jealous.”

_ “Jealous.” _ Pegasus stated flatly, unable to think of a better response.

“Jealous.” Pymos repeated, uncertain seemingly of even their own words. “But of what…?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.” Joel said. “Also I’d like to know if this is some voodoo magic stuff going down or if this is memories returning.”

“Would it matter?” Emily cast him a look.

Joel shrugged. “I suppose not. They both kind of creep me out, to be honest.”

Paelen frowned. “Your choice of words is ‘creeping me out.’ I do not understand you sometimes, Joel. What is voodoo?”

No one bothered to answer hsi question, all eyes going back to Pymos when they spoke. “I can feel him.” They reached vaguely in Vesta’s direction, staring straight ahead into the wall. “I can feel what he feels… or what he felt. It is faint, but… I do not like how this works. How do I make it stop?”

Vesta grasped the failing hand to still it. “I do not know, my friend. For how well I know your heart I know naught about your abilities.”

Pymos blinked a few times, as if trying to clear their vision. “I do not… one moment. I… oh. That was unexpected. No…”

The others exchanged looks.

“What’s going on?” Emily asked.

“I do not know.” Vesta admitted. “I just hope it aligns with their abilities presenting themselves and not some hex associated with their missing memories.”

“Hexes now?” Paelen’s voice was an octave higher than normal. “Is this what we are at, now? Hexes?”

“At this point…” Vesta sighed. “I would not put anything past this situation. God returns from the dead only to disrupt the small wall between peace and destruction and scared me yet half to death again.”

“Sounds like a news headline.” Joel muttered.

“Joel!” Emily shoved his shoulder.

“Well it does!” He complained.

“What is a news headline?” Paelen asked.

“It is dark.” Pymos’s trance-like tone interrupted them. “No, it is actually… no it is dark again. There are voices here, Vesta.” Pymos tightened their fingers around the goddess of the hearth’s hand. “There were not voices before. They are… sad.”

Paelen waved a cautious hand before the god’s face, but Pymos did not blink. They just kept staring into the wall ahead.

“They are dying, Vesta.” Pymos said. “They have last words for me to carry.”

“Okay,” Joel held up his hands. “I am officially creeped out!”

“I know them, Vesta.” Pymos gripped the goddess’s hand so tight their knuckles paled. “I know them, Vesta! They are… friends. I think… oh, hello.” Their expression changed, into something like recognition, but their eyes stayed fixed. “How did you get in here?”

They paused, as if waiting for a reply.

“Oh,” Pymos continued. “I suppose that makes sense… Why can I see you and cannot see the others?”

Everyone exchanged looks again. Joel scooted back a smidge.

“Peitha.” Pymos gave a slow, very slight nod. “Yes, I know that name… I know you. I… know you.” They paused again.

“Uh…” Emily moved to sit directly in front of Pymos. “Pymos? Pymos, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Vesta is with me now.” Pymos said. “She is well. I am well too… I think. It is hard to tell.”

“Pymos?” Vesta rested her free hand on her friend’s shoulder. “Pymos, what do you see?”

“Missing who?” Pymos frowned.

“Tell me someone else here finds this weird!” Joel said.

_ “They seem to be… somewhere else.” _ Pegasus said.  _ “It is most likely they are actually communicating with a real person. Perhaps even in real time.” _

“Why is that?” Pymos’s frown deepened into a scowl.

“We need to snap them out of it.” Vesta decided. “We do not know who they are talking to. It could be an enemy.”

“We had determined that their loss of memories was not an accident, yes?” Paelen asked.

“Exactly.” Vesta said.

“Peitha, no!” Pymos ripped their hand away from Vesta’s sot reach out, almost falling forward over their own lap. “Don’t go! I still do not understand!”

Emily pushed the outstretched arm aside and grasped both the god’s shoulders. “Pymos. Pymos, wake up!”

“I have so much to ask you!” Pymos cried out. “Why is this happening? Where did you all go? Please stay!”

“Pymos!” Emily shook the god. Not hard, but Pymos blinked then.

Dazed golden eyes settled in line with Emily’s sable ones. “Em...Emily?” They murmured. Slowly tears rimmed their eyes. “No… no, I need to go back! I need-!”

“Pymos!” Vesta grabbed their arm. “Pymos, what just happened? Where did you go?”

_ “Who were you talking to?” _ Pegasus’s head appeared over Emily’s shoulder.

“Back up!” Paelen shouted. “They cannot hear a word you say when you all talk at once!”

Everyone slowly settled back - Joel stayed where he was, too far away yet somehow still uncomfortably close by his own standards.

Paelen bent to Pymos’s sitting height, but stayed nearly a meter back. He met their eyes and they simply stared at each other a long minute.

“Pymos,” Paelen said finally. “Who did you see?”

“Memories.” Pymos murmured, still their gaze unwavering from Paelen’s. “And tears. And faces.”

“And Peitha.” Vesta breathed, realization dawning on her face as her own memories placed the name. “You called them Peitha!” The goddess leapt to her feet. “I need to go to the library!”

“Vesta, what is it?” Emily scrambled to her feet alongside her mentor.

“I need the records.” Vesta explained, still shaky, but undoubtedly excited. “I know the name Peitha - I swear it was a goddess among those Pymos rescued!”

Pymos shot to their own feet. “You have records?” They asked, wiping furiously at wide eyes.

“If you were truly talking to Peitha…” Vesta said.

Pymos’s eyes widened yet further with the same realization. “I may not be the only survivor of Olympus.”


	14. Smoke

Another hour passed and the rest seemed to being doing Dinlas some good. So did getting some water in him, and Caerus felled a bird with a stone (a technique he’d used to impress the small-town earth girls back when visits were regular) and the two shared it in silence beside a small fire.

It wasn’t ambrosia, but it tasted just as good at that moment, considering all they’d been through.

“We should probably try and find a city.” Dinlas murmured, not opening his eyes from where his head rested on Caerus’s lap. “Find shelter of  _ some _ sort before dark.”

Caerus absently stroked the dark tangled locks in front of him, staring at the stream ahead as he leaned his back against a maple. “I doubt there is anything close.” He said. “And you cannot walk far. I not much farther.”

Dinlas hummed vaguely. “Still.”

Caerus sighed. “Come then,” he patted his friend’s shoulder, “Get off me so I may climb this tree and see what is near. If I see signs of life we may yet head towards them.”

“Sounds… like a good idea.” Dinlas said. But he didn’t move.

With a weak smile Caerus lifted his friend’s shoulders and head and stood, settling Dinlas back down in the leaves.

The guardian god muttered something unintelligible and shifted to rest his head on his hands.

Caerus stretched and then looked at the trees around, judging their height against climbability.

He chose a pine a few meters away, and used the young oak beside it to reach its more stable branches. He climbed until the pine began to sway beneath him, and then straightened to look across the forest.

He was still peering through the treetops, but there was more visibility than down below. He turned slowly, searching for some sign that there was settlement nearby.

Distantly to the northeast - and very distantly at that - a thin line of grey snaked out of the trees and was gradually whisked away by the wind. Smoke.

There was no way they could travel all the way there by nightfall if they were well and healthy, let alone their present condition.

Caerus marked the direction in his mind and clambered down, dropping beside his friend in the leaves once more.

Dinlas opened a tired eye. “Anything.”

“Something.” Caerus admitted. “But is far off. We can start that way at first light.”

“No,” Dinlas lifted his head a little. “We have yet daylight.”

“Not nearly enough.” Caerus waved to the afternoon sun. “Let us stay by the stream until we must leave it. We do not know if there will be any more water along our path, and I for one do not fancy being stranded in the forest in the dark without supplies.”

“What supplies?” Dinlas snorted.

“Exactly.” Caerus said. “This stream is the only thing we have. We stay here tonight.”

“What if there are wolves in these woods?” Dinlas wondered. “Bears? Other beasts?”

Caerus tugged his dagger out of his belt. It was bent slightly and stained with blood on one side, but still sharp. “I will kill them.” He stated simply - and it was just that: an unwavering, fully confident statement, that left no room for argument.

“A...alright.” Dinlas decided. “But please - be careful.”

“I wish I could.” Caerus said.

They were silent after that - there was nothing left to say.


End file.
